Losing Your Wings
by mandaree1
Summary: (Slight AU) The guilt of what Beatrice has done is eating at her, forcing her to take drastic measure in an attempt to atone. Her family turns back to human, but she doesn't. At least, not right away.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Over The Garden Wall!**

 **Title: Losing Your Wings**

 **Summary: (Slight AU) The guilt of what Beatrice has done is eating at her, forcing her to take drastic measure in an attempt to atone. Her family turns back to human, but she doesn't. At least, not right away.**

 **Warning: Slightly non-canon compliant (in that she doesn't change back with the others)**

 **...**

Beatrice felt like the weight of the world was on her feathered shoulders as she flew, talons clutching the scissors she'd fought for with a grip so tight it sent cramps up her legs, and, in a sense, it was. One wrong move- a wayward breeze or innocent yet incorrect wing stroke- and everything she'd been working for would be lost.

She shook the thought away. Failure wasn't an option. If it came to it, she'd go with the lousy piece of metal, even if it meant plunging to her doom with them. Her family deserved that and more.

Coming to a stand still mid-air, Beatrice took a deep breath, eyeing the hole in the tree her family now lived in. She couldn't let her nerves get the better of her now. "Mom? I'm... here."

"Beatrice?" A disgustingly fragile specimen hopped to the front of the hole. Her mother had always looked so strong and beautiful to Beatrice, except when she wasn't, like now. And that was all her fault. The bluebird perked up. "You're home!"

"I'm home." She agreed, expertly tossing the scissors towards the hole. There was a heart wrenching moment she feared they wouldn't make it, that they'd fall into the snow and be lost to time, but they landed inside with a clatter. "Here."

"What-" The woman started to say, but Beatrice cut her off.

"They're magic scissors. They can turn you all back to normal. Isn't that great?"

Her breath caught. "You're sure?"

"Positive." She perched on a snowy branch. "Go ahead."

"What?" She looked scandalized at the thought. "Beatrice, honey, you found them. You should-"

"No!" She shouted. The thought of going first made her sick. "I'll go last."

"But-" Beatrice hopped in a tight circle so she was facing away from her family. Her mother sighed. "Alright."

The overjoyed looks on her family's human faces made her heart turn to stone. One mistake- one bratty, mean-spirited, anger fueled mistake- had led her family to live in confusion and fear for some time now.

Why them? It made sense that she would be transformed, but why did the people she love have to deal with it too?

Bluebirds suck. _She_ sucks.

"Okay, Beatrice." She glanced at them over their shoulder. They're all human; big and strong. It makes her feel even smaller. They're all trying to relearn how to walk normally, save for her mother, who is leaning against the tree, holding up the scissors for her to take. "Your turn."

Beatrice looked away, stiffened her resolve, and shook her head. "I think I'm okay." She muttered.

"Huh?" Her mother blinked at her, confused. "We've all changed back. It's safe."

She's really going to make her spell it out, isn't she? Beatrice somberly flies into her mother's cupped hands, settling in uneasily. The only people she'd trusted to hold her before now was Wirt and Greg, and, even then, it'd been iffy.

"I don't want to be human." She lied. The words stick in the back of her throat. She wanted, more than ever, to take them back, but she deserved this. It's only fair, after what she's done. "I kinda like being a bluebird."

Lies. Beatrice hated lying.

Her mother's brow was drawn in confusion. Who could blame her? She'd just lived through the same kind of life she had, after all. "Really? You're sure?"

Beatrice forced her head to bob. "Yup."

"Well... okay then." She shrugged, bemused. "If that's what you want."

Her loving, understanding mother. How would she feel if she knew it was all her fault?

They don't have to know, she told herself. It'd been one thing when she thought the curse was permanent, but everything was better now. They were happy, and she was happy they were happy.

"It is." It isn't.

"Here you go." She lifted her hands up so she could hop onto her shoulder. Beatrice felt much more comfortable there; more stable. Her mother slipped the scissors into her pocket. "Let's go home, everyone."

* * *

The Old Grist Mill looked to be in mostly good shape when they arrived. Someone had obviously been using the place as a home of their own while they were away. Beatrice wondered who.

Wirt and Greg came to mind, but they had never stayed in one place for long. She wondered if they'd found their way home, surprised by the resounding _yes_ echoing in her fluffy chest.

Good. If anyone deserved the comforts of familiar quarters, it was those two.

Beatrice flew over to a shelf covered in bluebird figurines. It felt strange, looking at them now. They'd been so cute when she was young, but now it was like having a bunch of dolls lying around. Too still and too dead-eyed. Vaguely uncomfortable, she hopped around so she couldn't see them.

"You fit right in." One of her brothers chuckled, but she could see that they were all just as weirded out by the figurines as she was.

"Don't make me hit you." Beatrice warned, threateningly sticking out a wing.

He chuckled and backed away. "So scary."

"I think I'll make us some dirt." Her mother hummed. Beatrice winced.

"You're a human, mom. You don't eat dirt."

"Oh, you're right." She mumbled, hand to her mouth, before shrugging. "Doesn't mean I can't still call it that."

Beatrice sighed. This was a fight for another day. "I'm gonna check out my room, it that's okay."

"You can eat with us, if you want." Her mother replied hesitantly, hand outstretched. "It won't bother us at all."

"Yeah." Another boy scoffed. "It's not like we haven't done it ourselves."

Beatrice suddenly felt embarrassed by her limitations. She'd never had a problem with eating in front of Wirt and Greg- of course, Greg was willing to dive into mud and hibernate like a frog, so there was no shame there- but it suddenly felt like an insult. These people had had their fill of bird things for one lifetime. "No, no. I'll find my own dinner."

Hoping that didn't come out as downcast as it sounded to her own ears, Beatrice turned and flew away, feeling more alone than ever.

 **Author's Note: Second Over The Garden Wall fanfic; first in Beatrice's point of view. If it's O.O.C., by all means, tell me.**

 **I'd just like to point out that we don't know that the images at the end of the show happen at the same time, so there's still a possibility this could be canon-compliant. Eh. It's the best I got.**

 **First of three chapters, ya'll.**

 **-Mandaree1**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Over The Garden Wall!**

 **Title: Losing Your Wings**

 **Summary: (Slight AU) The guilt of what Beatrice has done is eating at her, forcing her to take drastic measure in an attempt to atone. Her family turns back to human, but she doesn't. At least, not right away.**

 **...**

 **Nightfrightpony \- So I shall!**

 **...**

Beatrice wondered, rather belatedly, if Wirt and Greg were better off here, in the end.

Sure, The Unknown wasn't always a picnic, but they'll be back. Someday. She knew it deep in her heart, and she knew they knew it too. After all, it's like dipping your toe in a puddle and expecting it to come out dry; some of the water never quite lets go.

It was a temporary fix, at best. They'd see each other again. Would it be fair to dangle that in their faces, the thought and feel of home, only to snatch it away?

Well, she decided, hunkering down in front of the window, it can't be any different from carrying a pair of magic scissors through snow and wind, only to give away the chance at being human again due to a bit of guilt and pride.

Wirt, the eternal softie, will bombard her with question when he gets back. Then try and persuade her to tell them. And then she will, knowing her; all she needs is a push. Greg will cheer for her the entire way.

...She misses them, okay? There. She said it.

"Waiting to get outside?" One of her brothers asks, bending down to open the window. Beatrice takes to her wings, her pride feeling the blow that her family assumed she wasn't even capable of going outdoors on her own.

"No, actually, I wasn't." She snapped. "And I can find my own way out."

He started to say something, but she flew away, out the small door they left for the dog.

Speaking thereof, she landed on a furry back and settled in. It wasn't a shoulder, but it'd do. "Alright, pooch. Mush. Anywhere but here will be fine."

The dog got to his paws, padding a few steps forward, then flopped on the ground. She fell into the dirt with an 'oomph.'

"Wow. What an invigorating experience." She sighed, getting to her wings. The dog began to roll around playfully in response. "You stink as a mode of transportation, you know that?"

Grumbling under her breath, Beatrice took to the air, sailing on the currents. She wondered if her family missed flying. She would be much more comfortable with a more solid footing on the ground, honestly.

Trees whisk by, opening to a grassy field. Beatrice almost falls out of the sky when she sees The Woodsman cheerfully hauling a bundle of sticks, a young girl by his side.

"Hey!" She swooped down the greet them.

"Hello, bird." He rasps. His deep voice soothed her, unlike before, when it had made her feathers fluff up. "All is well, I take it?"

"As well as it can be." She agrees.

"Good, good." He hesitated. "...The boys?"

"Home."

Relief sparked in his eyes. "Even better." He breathes.

"It's nice to meet you." The woman hums, sticking out a finger for her to perch upon.

"Same to you. Lugging wood?"

Storm clouds cross The Woodsman's old features. "I may no longer chop up Edelwood, but I'm still The Woodsman. This is my calling, bird."

"Okay. I'll help." Beatrice reaches into the pile and pulls out a small twig, holding it in both talons.

"Bird-"

"Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm gonna help." She stubbornly shook her head. "Besides, I could use the company."

Together, they haul the load to The Woodsman's home, working in silence. Beatrice sets down her stick with a flourish. "There."

"Thank you. You've been a good help." He rumbled, but she assumed it was just a ploy to make her feel better. "Bird, may I ask you why you're still a bird?"

Beatrice jumps. "What, never seen a talking bluebird before?"

"I have." He assured her. "But you have the air of someone who is what they didn't used to be." He bowed his head. "I understand it well."

"I threw a rock at a bluebird." She admitted, after a moment's hesitation. "It cursed my whole family."

"Well, surely there's a way to fix it, isn't there?"

"My family _is_ fixed." She glanced away. "I just... decided against it."

"Ah..." The Woodsman says, his words a sigh. "I see. This is your punishment, then."

Beatrice quietly landed on the top rung of a wooden chair. "I did a bad thing."

"So did I." He reminded her. "And I'm not being punished."

"Your burden was much worse than my own." She remembered The Beast's dark voice and shivered. "You only did what you thought was right."

"As did you."

"Not when I hit a bird."

"But you _learned_. That's what's important." The Woodsman stood up to make himself a glass of tea. "Does your family know?"

"My family knows they are free." She offered. He shook his head.

"They've earned the right to know what imprisoned them, don't you think?"

She reluctantly bobbed her head. "I was worried that was what you'd say. So I should tell them, then?"

He shrugged. "You should do what you think is best. Remember, the only one punishing you, is you."

 **Author's Note: Short, I know. But still. =) Only one more chapter.**

 **-Mandaree1**


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